Amelia and Castien stared at one another from opposite sides of the worn-down shack. Castien kept his eyes focused on the purple glow emanating from her face, and his head bobbed as if remembering something important, but otherwise did not make any movement.
For what it was worth, Korath kept his cool just as much as anyone could. He kept an oblivious air to the entire situation.
“You know what, I DO know you,” Castien said to Amelia. “I just can’t place my finger on it.”
“I’ve never met you,” Amelia said.
“Who is she, Korath? One of your zombies?”
“No,” he said. “Her name is Amelia Bluewood. My muscle, if you will.”
Amelia gasped. She could not control herself well enough to prevent it. And Castien noticed absolutely. Whatever Korath’s game was by revealing their true identities so quickly, she did not know. He had not consulted her before such a brazen move.
“What’s the matter, Amelia?”
“I think I know where we met,” she said. “I did work in the Netherhill mines a while back. Paying off some debt I got from my father. You must have visited.”
Castien chuckled, but his eyes betrayed the realization of Amelia’s horrific mining injuries—at least, that was how he perceived her scars. “Sorry, Miss. I don’t know if I could even place Netherhill on a map. I’m—It’s a shame what they do out there, isn’t it? But it’s for the greater good, so it can’t be helped.” He shrugged and then moved his hands as if to reach for a cup of tea that was not there. “Those like you and your father work to improve the lives of everyone in the future. Never forget it.”
“I’m not angry.”
“You’re a cute little thing. Not sure if you’re great muscle, but I respect you.”
Amelia resisted the urge to attack him right now, though she plotted every possible way she could once his defenses were lower. The orc guards were no issue, but that vortex amulet certainly was. She could grab and activate it, but that would probably kill all three of them, and then the rest of the Night Markets, still roaring busily outside. And if his reaction time was fast enough, he could activate it first. That was likely why he kept it in his hand even as they spoke.
“Onto business, then?” Korath asked, moving them past that point of Amelia’s identity that still hung in the air. “I’m very excited about today.”
“She may be cute, but you’re adorable,” Castien said. “I’ve just got to get to know you sometime, if that’s all right.”
“Coffee or something.”
“Yeah, or something.” Castien adjusted his glasses. “Onto business, then. You’re looking to purchase a large sum of glossal souls. Luckily, you’ve come to exactly the person. I’m, let’s say, well-placed in the North Sunwell Company, and I have access to many resources and subsidiaries. With the right tugs on the correct strings, I can get you exactly what you need. Only, it’s not for free.”
“Name a price.”
“Name a quantity.”
“How many souls might I need to mass raise an entire graveyard?” Korath asked, his tone betraying that he well had the knowledge already. In fact, a statement like that likely gave away his identity of the terror who wreaked havoc on Berryward just a few short months ago, since he did exactly that.
“So you’re looking for more like a small soul cache. A few hundred ought to do the trick. Not that Fleettwixt has any graveyards that large, mind you. Not enough space, so we usually cremate bodies here.”
Cremate only after stealing their souls, Amelia noted internally.
“How does four thousand filled soul gems sound?” Korath asked.
Castien sat back on the sofa and clasped his hands together. “Now we’re getting somewhere. This is extremely compelling.”
“Why so?”
“Well, I have this sparkling specimen of a man here. And this cute thing beside him. And they’re asking me for enough souls to power an army of golems. So brazen they’d use their real names in negotiations. I’m just flabbergasted by the boldness of it all. Bravo.”
Two more orcs entered the shack through the front entrance and went to either side of Castien’s sofa.
“I really, really want souls, is all,” Korath said.
“I can see that. And I’m almost willing to give them to you, except I fear that if I do you’ll go out to the countryside, raise up a horde of skeletons and zombies, then invade Fleettwixt and start a civil war. That’s not your plan, is it?”
“My plans are my own,” Korath said. “I could divulge, but only for a discount.”
Castien shook his head. “That won’t do. You aren’t in a position to make a deal like that.”
“Then I can tell you my plans are much more ambitious than a fruitless invasion. I’m not some comic strip parody of a necromancer. I seek a revolution in the field that will change magedom forever.” Korath clasped his hands together. “I’ve got you right where I want you, and I’m not going to let go until I’ve got what I want.”
“Whew, coming onto me a little hard, aren’t we?” Castien laughed. “I don’t suppose the girl will be there, too?”
“I want to make a deal with you, Castien.”
“We,” Amelia added.
Korath looked at her and gave a single, slow nod, as if to humor her, then turned back to the core elf in front of him. “My request might be large, but so is the benefit you will receive if you fulfill it. With enough resources, I will be able to create undead raising spells that can become permanent. That can instill intelligence, and perhaps even memory, into these long-passed bodies and the souls inside them. Over and over again. rising into infinity all at North Sunwell’s bidding. Your bidding, Castien. I will bring the forgotten black arts back into the public domain of good. This time, with the mana technology to make it truly viable for all of the world to see.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Castien’s businessman smile went away completely. In its place, a more mischievous look. “I took you for a fool or a con man, you know. A very pretty boy whose scrambled elven brain had gotten the best of him. But it seems I was wrong. You’re really trying for this.”
“Of course,” Korath said. “I also have the perfect way to pay you.”
“Don’t tell me? Mage research and new plans?” Castien scoffed. “The North Sunwell Company’s Research & Development Department has an unofficial necromancy division. It was deemed nonviable, but we already have plenty of research. Especially after your little stunt in Berryward. I doubt we’d need anything from an amateur hobbyist like you.”
Korath was too stunned to respond.
“Yes, yes,” Castien said. “I know who you are. You dress the exact same way everywhere you go. As great as you look, you really need to change your style sometimes. Especially that hairdo. I can recommend you my barber. Anyway, I’ve kept tabs on you since you entered the city, Korath. Don’t worry, I haven’t alerted the higher-ups. Not while I have a tactical advantage. As long as you don’t go against any of my interests, the mage enforcers won’t have to know a thing.”
Korath stood up from the sofa. The orcs instantly assumed battle positions and drew their blades, but Castien raised his hand and stopped them in their place. They sheathed their blades after a few moments.
“I told you,” Korath said, “I’m looking for a deal, and I won’t let go.”
“I’m sure you think that. Frankly, I don’t think you can afford it. Glossal souls aren’t as cheap as they used to be. Synth’s been taking a lot of the resources up. That stuff makes fantastic profit, mind you. Necromancy, on the other hand... Might as well melt the money instead.”
“Payment is not a worry. I have this.” Korath held out an arm and gestured to... Amelia. “A half-human, half-golem with amazing powers like I’ve never seen.”
“A half-golem. Really?” Castien’s tone betrayed his surprise. “Why, this just got more interesting.”
Amelia, why are you just sitting there?
Amelia, danger level extremely high.
Scan Module detects multiple incoming mana signatures. Threats imminent.
“Amelia was with me in Berryward, you know. Sold me a lot of souls that helped me create that terror army. I’ve seen her in action, and I’m sure you’d love to see her too.”
“Korath, what are you talking about?” Amelia asked with a sharp glare.
“She’ll understand why I’m doing this,” he said, not breaking eye contact with Castien. “I’d like to sell you my golem.”
“Wh—”
And, unexpectedly, Castien sighed. “You can’t make these kinds of statements when you’re in such a weak position. It’s like you’ve never even negotiated before.” He, too, stood up. “I already have both of you here. In my domain. You can’t sell her to me if she’s already mine.”
Amelia stayed seated, but her grip on the sofa tightened as her HUD flared up with messages.
I’m activating your other modules whether you like it or not.
Initializing...
Combat Module activating.
Boost Module activating.
Warp Module activating.
Running system scan...
Complete.
You’re ready to fight.
And you have 97% power remaining.
Do your best.
But she did not lunge. Not yet. Not without seeing the kind of opening that she could take. Castien still held the vortex amulet in his hand, and Korath was still going on with his batshit betrayal tactic. Whatever his gambit was, it was not going to work.
As the modules activated, Amelia’s right eye area flared up bright purple and caught Castien’s attention. “My, looks like someone’s getting ready for this to become an exciting event.”
She did not reply.
“And I’ve known about Amelia for a while too, you know,” he continued. “Not her name, thank you very much, but ever since her attack on the Fourland synth facility, I’ve been looking all over for the crafty culprit. My curiosity was absolutely out of the world, I’ll say. Little did I know she would simply waltz right into my grasp!”
“Waltz is a little graceful for what Amelia does,” Korath said.
“Eh, she has a lighter touch than she lets on, or else I’d have found her much sooner.” He took a few steps closer and looked down at Amelia as if observing a piece of art. Close enough that she could strike him, but so close as well that the vortex amulet would wipe them all out if she tried. “I only came in person because I really wanted to see her in the flesh. And rock. Quite beautiful. Not as much as you, Korath, but striking nonetheless.”
“She’s incredibly powerful, too” Korath said. “You can’t capture her on her own, but the two of us together can take her down easily. What do you say? Four thousand souls for a half-golem abomination?”
Castien rolled his head in some kind of melodramatic sigh. “Alas, Korath. I had such plans for you, and your plans for necromancy are all so tantalizing. But I must politely decline your request. I can’t let word of either of you leak to the Board of Directors, or my network will collapse.
Korath took a step back. “You...”
“Amelia would be so useful alive. But I can’t risk it. At least she’s going to be an amazing corpse to study. You, on the other hand, are a tragic loss through and through. Such a cute man going to waste. If only you hadn’t made your spiel about not giving up and whatnot. And, I guess I acted too soon by promising you’d be fun to kill.”
Castien turned and walked away from them. The four orc guards flanked Amelia and Korath on all sides. Then out of the bedroom came a bald human woman with a rifle, and a dwarven woman with a crossbow.
“I’ll be back after the messy part is over. I’m not such a fan of it.” He went through the curtains into the bedroom.
Korath and Amelia looked at each other, both with angry glares at each other and at the six foes around them.
“Real smooth, fucker,” Amelia said.
“I knew you’d understand.”
“Well, let’s kill them all.”
Then, before the fight could begin, Castien stepped back in. “Oh, actually, I realized something. You’ll probably defeat all of these guards no sweat. So I’d like to introduce you to my muscle. Farewell.”
Castien snapped, then disappeared in an instant.
Teleportation.
He’s still here.
Second floor, and gathering mana for more spells.
“Got it.” She looked at Korath. “Kill them first, then capture him, then we kill each other I guess.”
Korath nodded. “Sounds like a—”
Out of the wall next to the bedroom entrance burst, literally burst, a giant in a dark cloak and a horrific smiling mask. Totally silent.
“Fuck, it’s Dimples,” one of the orcs shouted.
The masked man took out two oversized knives and lunged.